Moments of Healing
by jjsoc10
Summary: Collection of scenes between reader and Bucky. Reader is based on the OC in my other story. Also up on my tumblr (haloedbucky) and AO3.
1. Can You Feel My Soul?

"Are you all right?" you ask softly. Bucky looks up, startled, and for a moment you think he might attack you again. He just stares at you, though, before returning his gaze to the floor.

"I…I don't know if I'm worth this," he says brokenly. Your heart aches at the expression on his face.

"James –"

"I've killed people," he interrupts. "I've killed a lot of people. Hell, I almost killed you. And for you and Steve to risk everything, to go against your friends like that…I don't deserve it."

You sit down next to him, shaking your head. "That wasn't you," you say gently. "You didn't have a choice. Steve knows that." You pause, studying his face. "You know, there was a time when you were all he had. I think, given the opportunity to go back, he would make the same choices over and over again. I think he'd do anything for you, James."

Bucky looks at you again, the same broken look in his eyes. "What about you? Why are you helping me?"

You smile wryly. "Well, I know a little of what it's like to not be in control of your own mind," you say, before growing serious again. "A lot of people have died because of me as well."

Now it's Bucky's turn to shake his head. "You're nothing like me…you have no idea, the things I've done." He stares at his lap, his voice shaking. "I have so much blood on my hands."

You sit there for a moment, contemplating what to do, before reaching out to touch his metal arm. You watch him carefully as you run your fingers lightly down his forearm and across his palm, then gently maneuver his elbow into a 90-degree angle. You fit your hand neatly into his, slowly intertwining your fingers together.

"Can you feel that?" you say quietly, flicking your eyes up to meet his. He lets out a soft sigh, pulling his hand from yours to place it ever so gently on the left side of your face.

"Yes," he whispers, dragging his thumb across your lower lip. A beat of silence stretches between you before he leans down to kiss you, his mouth pressing urgently against yours. In contrast to the harshness of the cold metal against your cheek, his lips are warm, soft, and exceedingly gentle.

He leaves as quickly as he had come, resting his forehead against yours briefly while he collects himself.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I – I shouldn't have done that." He begins to pull away, but you quickly place a hand over his.

"No, that…" you let out a shaking breath, unsure of what to say next. You peek up through your lashes to give him a small smile. "That was perfect." You grasp his hand more firmly, guiding it along your jaw. " _You're_ perfect, James. Just as you are."

You press a chaste kiss to the tips of his metal fingers, your eyes never leaving his. His mouth falls open slightly as you release him, his hand falling limply into his lap. You sit there like that for what seems like eons, neither of you wanting to look away, until a yell from Steve signaling your arrival breaks the trance.


	2. All Through the Night

You've always been a light sleeper. Centuries of constantly watching your back, as well as the self-preservation instinct that comes with your powers, have forced you to be able to wake up instantly. So when you feel the dip of the bed beside you as someone sits down you react immediately and without thinking.

The knife materializes in your hand as your right arm swings up to rest the blade against the intruder's neck. Whoever it is lets out a soft gasp of surprise, a sound you find oddly familiar –

"James?" you say, blinking the sleep from your eyes to confirm that it is indeed Bucky Barnes sat on the edge of your bed. The knife vanishes from your grasp and you bring your arm back down beside you. "What are you doing in here?"

He doesn't answer, just furrows his brow and picks at the frays in your comforter. You take in the expression on his face and the deep, dark circles under his eyes. "Is everything all right?"

He shrugs. "Can't sleep," he says flatly. You nod in understanding.

"Nightmares?"

There's a brief pause before he nods once. You sigh and rub your eyes. "James, I –"

"You get them too, right?"

You stare at him, slightly shocked. "Who told you that?"

"Steve," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand. "He said you helped him with his." He still won't look at you, keeping his eyes trained on your bedsheets.

"Yes," you confess. "I do get nightmares. I've had them for a long time."

"What are they about?"

Your head snaps up, because that's _personal_ , but Bucky looks so much like a wounded puppy you can't help but want to tell him. "Mostly people I've lost," you say, studying his face. "When you're as old as I am, there are a lot of those."

His expression doesn't change, but you can tell your words have an impact by the slope of his shoulders. You're contemplating how to tell him nicely that you'd like to go back to sleep when he opens his mouth again.

"Mine are usually about people I've killed. It's like when I close my eyes, I can see their faces. And I try to tell them that it's not me, that I don't want to, but…" he trails off, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "It always ends the same."

Finally, his eyes flick up to yours. You feel a sudden surge of empathy at the amount of trust it must have taken for him to tell you that. Sighing, you peel back the covers and pat the bed beside you.

Bucky stares at you for a moment, not understanding. "Lie down," you command gently, scooting over to make room. He complies, the puzzled expression on his face growing when you toss the covers over his body. "Is it all right if I touch you?"

He nods, watching you carefully as you tuck yourself into the curve between his chest and right arm. His metal arm lies awkwardly on his side; you realize that he doesn't want to touch you with it. You reach up to grasp his left forearm, moving slowly to avoid alarming him, and pull it over your body.

"Are you okay?"

"What if…what if I hurt you?"

You snort, shifting slightly to get into a more comfortable position. "Don't worry, you won't." After a few moments, you feel his body relax around you and his breathing even out. Ten minutes later, the both of you are out.

You get the best night of sleep you've had in a long, long time.


End file.
